The Grim Adventures of Grim
by The Spastic Forkie
Summary: A peeved Mandy sends Grim on a quest to do away with a certain fanfiction author...but has quite a bit of trouble along the way. Rated for naughty language and even more naughty graphics and other bad stuff.
1. Frotu

THIS IS A TRUE STORY.

The events depicted in this story took place in Minnesota in 1987.

At the request of the survivors, the names have been changed.

Out of respect for the dead, the rest has been told exactly as it occurred.

"Forkie, quit ripping off Fargo. Can't you be original at all?" droned Ewan.

"Shut up, you fool!" snapped the author, slapping her muse upside the head.

"Pie!" Jude squealed before he planted his face into a slice of cherry pie he'd stolen from the fridge.

* * *

**The Grim Adventures of…Grim**

_By GollumRox_

**Chapter One: **Grim Attempts to Reap the Immortal Soul of Frotu

Whilst muttering several obscenities, Grim groggily scrubbed the gunk that had crusted up around the edge of the toilet with the old grubby toothbrush Mandy had given him.

Unfortunately it was his own.

Although it shouldn't have mattered much to him whether or not he had decent looking teeth, the concept of his entire body being this huge mass of bones made him figure that he had to look shiny and clean all the time.

So after a short pause, Grim quickly swapped his toothbrush with Billy's and continued his slave work.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you!" Billy yelled as he popped up in the toilet bowl. "I used it to brush Milkshakes' butt furrrrr!" He then proceeded to vibrate with his idiotic laugh.

"What the hey, Billy!" Grim exclaimed, surveying the large puddle of toilet water Billy made from his sudden entrance. "You got the floor all wet! And what are you doing in the toilet anyways?"

"Do I really need a reason?" he grinned before he pulled the flusher and sent himself spiraling down the bowl.

Grim sighed and silently hoped a genetically enlarged turtle would do away with Billy as soon as he reached the gutter.

"Grim!" came Mandy's omnipotent voice from a few rooms down. "Get in here now!"

"What did I do dis time?" Grim groaned as he shuffled to his commander, who was perched on a stool at her parents' computer. "What is it, Mandy?"

"Take a look at this," she grumbled as she clicked her mouse a few times and a page appeared upon the screen that had quite a bit of writing.

"Mandy, what is dis all about?" Grim impatiently asked, setting his wrists on his pelvis bone.

"I found this story on a fanfiction website that I thought was mildly entertaining, but only because it was about death and destruction," she explained, scanning the page with her cursor. "So I decided to see who the author was. Turns out the author is a little bigheaded, if you know what I mean."

"No, I don't. Can I please get back to me work?" Even he couldn't believe he wanted to scrub the toilets this bad. But he was always willing to do anything to get away from her complaining.

"Read this part," Mandy told him, jabbing her finger onto the screen.

Rolling his eye sockets, Grim followed Mandy's direction to the words she pointed to. "'FROTU stands for Future Ruler of the Universe'? So what?"

"So…" Mandy began as she turned her chair and tapped her fingertips together menacingly, "we must teach this Frotu a lesson on being too egotistical."

"Mandy," Grim flatly said, "seriously. Dis is a bit much. So some girl thinks she's going to rule the universe. Big deal."

"It IS a big deal," she corrected ominously. "Personally, I had my own plans for such a career, but…there can't be TWO rulers of the universe, now can there, Grim?"

"Oh, sure there can!" Grim piped up in means to cheer Mandy up. "It can be an aristocracy ting! You can be called the 'Trotus' – the Two Rulers of the Universe!"

"No, Grim," Mandy said under her scowl. "Just one. And it's going to be me."

Grim's efforts deflated and he ever-so-reluctantly retrieved his scythe and black cloak as he headed out the door. "Dis will be interesting," he muttered to himself before he used his scythe to tear open the background and transport himself to Gilbert, Arizona.

§§§ SEXY BREAK §§§

Frotu was found at her computer IM-ing with her good (and not to mention intelligent and good-looking and all around brilliant) friend Forkie in the darkness of her room.

SilvanFrotu: mmm, did you watch the stupid show last night?

Bushywushy87: YAS!

Bushywushy87: He talked about being in the mime club and how his face was completely white and his whole outfit being like striped and stupid looking and the only color on him was his big huge red pompadour hair.

Bushywushy87: Blah hahahahaha!

SilvanFrotu: …

SilvanFrotu: not conan, you idiot! i meant the OTHER stupid show!

BushyWushy87: Ohhhhhh.

BushyWushy87: No, I missed it.

BushyWushy87: : (

BushyWushy87: tear, slurp, flex

SilvanFrotu: you suck!

Suddenly, a sudden unexpected power surge caused the computer to crash and shut down completely, leaving Forkie with the idea that Frotu was honestly mad at her for missing Billy and Mandy and 'hanging up' on her.

For a few short seconds, Frotu had a heart and felt kinda bad.

And then she snapped out of it once the power came back on.

The light that was being illuminated from the computer was enough to make out the outline of someone standing in front of the door. The figure was tall, rather emaciated, and was holding a large walking stick. Despite the lack of good lighting, Frotu could just barely distinguish the person's hideous face.

"Hi, Dad," she mindlessly greeted, turning her attention back to the computer to log on.

"I am the Grim Reaper," the figure announced in a deep voice that Frotu figured was supposed to be threatening. "And I am here to reap your immortal soul."

That's funny. He was fudging on a strange accent. Jamaican?

"Ha ha," Frotu deadpanned. Evidently her dad was really desperate for some father-daughter bonding if he'd go as far as sounding like Grim to amuse her.

"No, really. I am the Grim Reaper and I am here to—"

"Dad," Frotu groaned, laying her head back and rubbing her eyes. "I'm REALLY not in the mood. Besides, I thought you were in Iowa."

Through the silence, the figure shifted its weight awkwardly, causing the fabric of the dark cloak to rub together, making soft brushes. After clearing his throat, he announced again, "I am the Grim Reaper for real. And I am here—"

"Dad!" she suddenly snapped at him, slamming her palms down on the desk. "Go! Away!"

After another long pause, the figure made a short movement as if about to object, then turned to open the door and leave.

"Gosh!" Frotu huffed with exasperation as she opened a Word document and proceeded to read the bit of "Bob the Fugitive" Forkie had reluctantly sent her, causing her to giggle at the thought of Monkeyman Bob. "Heh heh," she commented as she read. "Bob."

§§§ SEXY BREAK §§§

By the time Grim got back to Endsville, Mandy and Billy were seated on their couch watching a reality show called "Cheap Date" in which the couples were so stingy, they'd go as far as having the free samples at Costco for dinner and later crossing the street to Circuit City for a movie.

So far the hick couple from Kentucky was winning mainly because, Mandy figured, they were so used to that sort of dating.

"Hi, Grim!" Billy greeted through a mouthful of couch stuffing. "Did you have a nice time killing people?"

"I didn't kill nobody," Grim told him, propping his scythe against the wall and joining them on the couch.

Mandy immediately snatched up the remote and turned off the TV.

"Hey!" Grim objected but Mandy silenced him with a finger to what would've been the bridge of his nose.

"I thought I told you to get rid of her, Grim," she scolded in her usual monotone voice. "Why can't you do a simple task like that? Are you too lazy for it?"

"Hey, cleanin' the bathrooms is one ting, but killin' somebody I don't know is anodder!" he rebuked. "You just need to learn to suck it up and choose a different career."

Stubbornly, Grim crossed his bony arms and stuck his nonexistent nose in the air.

"Yey! Go Grim!" Billy cheered before he lost his balance on the arm of the couch and fall backwards onto his gigantic nose, which only mildly broke his fall.

Mandy shook her head in a manner to show she was very disappointed. "Grim, I ask you to do one thing and you chicken out. You are a disgrace."

With that, she got down from the couch and left the room. Billy popped into view with his nose practically flattened from landing on it.

"I get dibs on the remote!" he proclaimed, diving across the couch and tackling the channel changer. He pushed the on button but to his dismay only saw some stupid Downy commercial. "Aww, poop!" he cursed, throwing the remote down and storming out of the room, leaving Grim all by his lonesome in a malaise of guilt.

He did make a deal with Mandy that he'd do everything she wanted. All she wanted was to get rid of ONE person and he couldn't muster enough sense to do even that. He had let her down wholeheartedly.

Now deeply depressed, Grim sighed and propped his chin up with his hands as he slumped over to watch the rest of the Downy commercial.

"I'm so soft and cuddly and everybody loves me," said the stupid annoying teddy bear as he licked his furry paw and rubbed the part of his chest where a nipple would be. "People buy my product because I'm an icon."

"Oh shut up, you stupid bear!" Grim suddenly exclaimed, throwing a bowl of peanuts at the TV which magically sailed through the glass screen and collided with the bear's head so hard, it decapitated him. "Dat'll teach you," Grim said smugly, feeling a thousand times better now that his anger had been vented. "Now back to Arizona to finish me job!"

Grim propelled himself from the couch, grabbed his sickle and headed out the door.

Meanwhile, millions of "Cheap Date" fans who had viewed the commercial bust out in hysterical crying.

§§§ SEXY BREAK §§§

After a few seconds of mindless and complicated transporting, Grim arrived at his destination…or at least what he figured was his destination. He found Frotu's body sprawled across her bed in a tangled fashion, her mouth and eyes wide open, and one eye being rolled up into the back of her head.

"Oh boy, did I kill her anyways?" Grim wondered out loud as he poked her with the butt of his scythe. In response, Frotu's body twitched and she slurped up some drool leaking from her mouth. "Oh, she must be sleeping. But I can't reap her immortal soul while she's asleep."

Grim had no idea how he came up with that regulation, but had the brilliant suggestion of sucking himself inside Frotu's mind to meet her subconsciously.

So after much grunting, Grim became a fluid and projected himself into Frotu's ear.

Apparently the dream Frotu was having took place in a vast desert with absolutely no scenery with the exception of one solitary cactus. Grim found Frotu standing in front of the cactus, engaged in a staring contest with it. He cautiously approached her, not meaning to take her by surprise for some reason, but just to casually request her soul…if that was at all considered casual.

"Excuse me," Grim greeted. "Hi there. Uh, what exactly are you looking at?"

"Shh," Frotu told him, not taking her poo-colored eyes off the cactus. "It's coming any minute."

"Dat's not appropriate," Grim reproached in a motherly tone.

Before Frotu could correct him and get his mind out of the gutter, the desert ground began to rumble softly.

"What the hey!" Grim exclaimed. "What's going on?"

"It's here!" Frotu breathed in awe as a humongous – TOO humongous - guinea pig appeared on the horizon and approached them.

"Okay, seriously, what is dis?" Grim asked, slightly irritated.

"Ride the giant guinea pig," suggested a Middle-Eastern guy who literally popped out of nowhere next to Grim.

"This one must be reoccurring," Frotu mused, tapping her chin with her finger. "That means the cannibalistic Santa will show up pretty soon. Better get on the cardboard and get out of here."

"Cardboard?"

Sure enough, on the ground was a flattened piece of cardboard with a lone steering wheel surreally jutting out from the front. Frotu, er…climbed aboard and beckoned Grim to join her.

"Will dis take long?" he asked as he seated himself next to her. "I'm supposed to be reaping your immortal soul so if we could just wrap this up soon…"

In a matter of seconds, Frotu had driven themselves out of the desert landscaping and into the confines of her bedroom.

"Are you awake now?" Grim asked.

"No, I think I'm still dreaming. Anyways, what did you say about reaping my immortal soul or something rather?"

"Yeah, dat. I came here to stop you from becoming the future ruler of the universe because my master thinks she's the future ruler of the universe and she wants to get rid of you so she asked me to just swing by and, you know, murder you and stuff. So I hope dat's okay with you."

The entire time, Frotu had been staring at him under a lowered brow with an expressionless face as if not even bothering to comprehend anything he said.

"So uh…I'm going to do it now, okay?" Grim ventured, awkwardly standing up.

"I don't think you want to be reaping MY soul," Frotu told him.

"Why not?"

"Well, not yet at least."

Grim sighed and stuck his fingers in his eye sockets by means to massage them. This was going to be a long night.

"I'll make a deal with you. Since I watch your show on a regular basis, I know you never back out on your word and you drive a pretty hard bargain. So let me strike a compromise."

"Anyting, anyting. Just hurry it up," Grim groaned.

"You can reap my soul if you reap the souls of my yearbook editors."

"Your yearbook editors?" Grim repeated in exasperation. "Come on now!"

"I would rather not go into explanations," Frotu said rather darkly as she examined her fingernails. "Just get the job done and I'll get back with you. Sound spiffy?"

Grim opened his mouth to protest, began to speak, choked on air, coughed a bit, got a blank stare from Frotu, cursed under his breath and transported himself to Frotu's high school.

* * *

"A diamond in my wedding ring fell out and I am sad," announced Forkie who only received blank, uninterested stares from Ewan and Jude. "And maybe I'll update tomorrow if I don't die by then." 

The readers were just about to click on the 'review' button when they were interrupted by another interjection from the author.

"WAAAAAAAAIT! I have to give credit to Frotu's dad for the 'Cheap Date' thing. So don't compliment me for that because it wasn't my idea. And if I were to recieve all the credit, I'd ultimately feel bad and I'd probably cry. And...uh, no, I think that's it."

Jude and Ewan appluaded.


	2. The Yearbook Editors

Much shorter. Buahahahahaha! And the names were changed because I'm paranoid. Again, Buahahahahahaha!

§

I don't own this. What are you talking about?

* * *

**Chapter Two:** Grim Reaps the Immortal Souls of the Yearbook Editors

"GODDAMMITSONOFABITCH!" Peach commented rather calmly as she pounded her fists on the keyboard and punched the computer screen, smashing it into pieces.

"What's wrong baby?" Mickey asked stroking the back of Peach's hair.

"I lost computer solitaire again," she huffed, crossing her arms and kicking a huge hole in the wall beneath the table.

"Maybe we should actually work on some yearbook stuff," Sheba timidly suggested.

"NO!" Abigail snapped, slapping Sheba across the face. "WE HAVE TO GOOF AROUND AND BE STUPID!" she concluded before bursting into tears.

"I got piiiizza!" Mr. O'Houlihan announced as he entered the room with 12 boxes of Dominos pizza balancing in his arms. "They're all pepperoni."

"You suck, O'Houlihan," all four girls told him before they ripped open the boxes and buried their faces in the food.

As they sloshed about in the cheese and sauce (but not the bread – they just clawed the bread with their fingernails) the door slowly opened again, causing the florescent lights to dim. Despite all that, no one looked up from the pizza binging and didn't notice Grim glide over to them, his scythe raised over his head.

"I am the Grim Reaper and I have come to reap your immortal sooouls!" Grim announced in his creepy voice.

This time, the editors shot their heads up to stare at him with shards of pizza dripping from their faces. Apparently it seemed to Grim that the editors' faces were bleeding profusely due to the skin peeling off, knowing he'd never believe it was just pizza. So he let out a repulsed mutter as he sunk back into the doorway.

"Well, hi!" Mr. O'Houlihan greeted, stepping towards him, a huge layer of cheese dangling from his eyelid. "Welcome to yearbook! Do you have any pictures you want to submit to us or are you just here for the free food?"

"Get back!" Grim warned, waving his scythe in front of him to fend off the crazy yearbook advisor. "I won't stand for dis! You get away from me, you cannibals!"

"CANNIBALS?!" Peach demanded, spurting sauce and bits of pepperoni from her mouth as she leapt onto the desk and crouched for attack. "WHO TOLD YOOOOOOOU?!"

At that, she pounced off the desk, screeched through her fangs and whipped out claws from her fingers. Grim freaked out and did the first thing that crossed his mind.

In a matter of seconds, Peach hit the floor in the form of a rutabaga.

Grim, along with the rest of the yearbook staff, stared down at the motionless vegetable before he drove the butt of his scythe through it, smashing it to mush.

"It was self-defense," he shrugged to the dumbfounded editors after doing so.

"DIIIIIIIE!" they all screamed as they charged towards Grim.

In quick and a more rational response, Grim blasted a huge hole in the floor in front of him to which everyone fell through, screaming until their cries for help faded into silence. A few seconds later, four distant splashes were heard and finally the chomping of a crocodile.

"Well…I guess dat counts," Grim figured. He then scooped up a piece of rutabaga and popped it in his mouth before leaving the room.

* * *

Only seven days until I'm changing my name. Happy Holidaaaaaays! 


	3. Conan O'Brien

Hey, I changed my name. Does anybody care/notice? Eh, oh well.

I don't own Grim, Conan or Andy. However, I do own Jude, Ewan, myself, and Downy detergent.

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Three**: Grim Reaps the Immortal Soul of Conan O'Brien

Extremely exhausted, Grim torpidly transported himself back to what he thought was Frotu's house in Gilbert Arizona.

"All dis reaping is really taking a toll on me body," Grim groaned, rubbing his skull. "When I get home, I'm going to draw a nice warm bubble bath and soak in it for three hours while listening to my Bruce Springstein albums."

He smiled at the thought.

The portal opened and Grim stepped through into unfamiliar territory. It seemed as if he knew where he was but he couldn't quite place it. He wondered where Frotu was hiding and if so, why was she hiding in the first place.

Suddenly a pair of green eyes appeared in a dark corner of the room.

…Oh yeah, and I forgot to mention the room was dark because it was nighttime. Sorry.

"Frotu?" Grim ventured.

The eyes only stared back at him.

"Frotu, cut it out," he sighed, reaching over with the butt of his scythe to poke the figure hiding in the corner.

"GAH DON'T TOUCH ME WITH THAT!" screamed the owner of the eyes in a British accent as he slapped the stick away and scurried out of the corner. Grim could've sworn he'd seen the guy in a movie recently. But why would a famous celebrity hang out in a lame person's house?

"Chill out, Jude," a female voice reproached from the other side of the room.

Grim looked over to see the outline of a girl with humongous hair perched on a chair.

"You're not Frotu," Grim observed.

"Very good, Grim," she congratulated.

"How did you know my name?"

"I have problems and I watch ridiculous shows," she explained and then paused. "Don't mind them. They're just stupid."

As soon as she said that, Grim looked down to see the faces of Jude Law and Ewan McGregor staring up at him with their big eyes. Ewan opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out the side.

"Right. So if you're not Frotu, where is she?"

"I dunno. You must've been redirected. But I'm really glad you're here. I've been wanting you to do something for me."

"Oh no…" Grim groaned cupping his forehead in his hand.

"Hey!" the girl snapped in order to receive his attention. "If you do this for me, I'll let you reap MY soul."

"I don't want to reap any more souls. I just want to go home and take my bubble ba—" Grim stopped short as soon as Jude and Ewan began to pet the folds of his robe. "Stop dat!"

"Okay, how about if you DON'T do this, I'll order those two to follow you around everywhere," the girl suggested. "And I won't give you directions to Frotu's house."

"Oh all right. Just tell me what you want."

"I'm mad."

"Dat's nice."

"I'm mad because someone made me mad."

"Who, pray tell, made you mad?"

But instead of answering directly, the girl was too into her accusation spiel that she stood up and dramatically paced the room for affect. "He made a promise and vowed to keep it, but instead he let me down and shall forever be sorry for what he has done to me, for I have now found a way to reap my revenge."

"Get to da point," Grim grumbled, ignoring Jude rubbing his head against Grim's thigh.

The girl let her arms drop as she sighed. "He promised it would be a good show with good guests and great music…but it was all a lie. He lied through his teeth…"

"Who lied?"

"The one they call…Conan O'Brien."

Suddenly, a brown furry creature popped out from the Vaseline container and announced "Dun dun dun!" before zipping back inside, taking Grim by total surprise.

"What the hey?"

Then the girl plastered on a wide grin and clasped her hand together whilst kicking one leg back. "So if it's not too much trouble would you mind reaping his immortal soul?" she asked in her sweetest tone of voice while batting her eyelashes.

"Wait, wait. So just because some talk show host said the show would be good and it sucked, you want me to kill him?" Grim ventured.

"Oh, is reaping immortal souls the same as killing?" she asked.

"Yeeeees…"

"Oh. Well, in that case, yes," she grinned.

Grim let out a heavy sigh and laid his head back. "Let it be known that I'm only doing dis so I can get back home."

"Whatever," she chirped happily.

After shaking Jude and Ewan off his legs, Grim sliced a hole in the air and stepped through it and transported himself to New York City.

When the tear was sealed up, the girl stepped out from the darkness and ripped off her mask.

"BUAHAHAHAHA! I can't believe it actually worked!" Ewan laughed as he tossed the Forkie mask aside and took off the huge Forkie wig. "Now I'll finally be rid of that stupid Irish prick once and for all! YAAAAAS!"

Jude stood up and pulled off his Jude mask.

"I still think we should've done Ethan Hawke instead. I mean Forkie has more reasons to be mad at HIM," he told Ewan who waved it off in response.

"O'Brien was a better goose. Besides, I don't think many people will miss him."

At that second, the door to the bedroom flew open and the real Forkie stormed inside. "WHAT are you two doing?!" she demanded of both of them, punching her fists into her hips.

"Your friend dropped by so we decided to give him a little something to do," Ewan smiled.

"Are you wearing my blouse?" she asked, noticing Ewan's getup.

Ewan looked down at the white lacy shirt as Jude pointed and laughed at him.

"Hahaha! Ewan's a trannie!" he guffawed.

Forkie let out an exasperated grunt as she surveyed her room. "Wait a minute, if you were dressed up as me, and Jude was dressed up as…himself, who's that dressed up as Ewan?" she asked as she pointed to the other Ewan sitting on the floor.

That Ewan stood and pulled off the mask.

"RAAAAAWR!" roared the huge bear as he ripped his teeth into the rubber mask and began to chase Ewan and Jude around the room.

"DAAAH!" they both screamed as they retreated out the door and went tumbling down the stairs afterwards, followed by noises of several crashes and shattering glass.

Forkie shrugged and bit into her sandwich.

§§§ SEXY BREAK §§§

As Grim sailed through the portal, he was struck head-on by a large spherical figure and was projected into another branch of the portal.

"Hey!" he screamed as he was flipped over. Before he was sucked away, he caught a glimpse of the thing that hit him.

"Hi, Griiiiiiim!" yelled Billy as he flew through the other end of the portal and out of sight.

"Oh good gravy," he muttered before he hit the real world and passed out as a result.

§§§ SEXY BREAK §§§

"The Grim Adventures of Grim will return in a moment," said the announcer before fading into a commercial.

The lovable huggable snuggly teddy bear stepped out from the darkness of a forest and held up a box of Downy laundry detergent.

"Downy makes things soft and cuddly like meeeee. I'm so soft and cuddly and everybody loves me," he announced, licking his paw and rubbing his chest. "People buy my product because I'm an icon."

He then proceeded to strip naked but was rudely interrupted by a bowl of peanuts that had flown literally out of nowhere and struck him in the head so hard that his furry head altogether was blown off his neck. His decapitated body stood for a few seconds, swayed a bit and then fell forwards into the dirt.

A group of mice approached it and started to eat at the fuzz but the image was cut away from and a soothing image of a koala bear replaced it for the rest of the thirty seconds.

The next commercial featured two fingers with faces drawn on them making out (and by making out, I mean being rubbed together) in a field.

"Mmm…mmm…" they said through their kissing.

"Hey, Barbara what's that?" the guy finger asked, pulling away and looking out yonder.

The girl finger gasped. "It looks like Frankenstein is here!"

"Quick! To the windmill!" he suggested.

"To the windmill, to the windmill!" they shouted, running off, signaling the end of the commercial which wasn't really much of a commercial on account of not really advertising anything in particular.

…That was really stupid.

§§§ SEXY BREAK §§§

Grim opened his eyes…somehow, and surveyed his surroundings. He seemed to be in another bedroom only this time, it was a lot bigger and more luxurious than any other bedroom he'd been in. Then Grim noticed he was in his pajamas and night cap so he figured he had dreamt the entire adventure.

That was, until an arm reached over and dropped across his chest.

Grim gulped and looked over to see a mass of matted red hair on top of the pillow next to him. He figured it was some girl who'd passed out next to him during the night.

"Mmm…" came the voice which wasn't exactly a woman's voice but also not quite male.

"Uhm…excuse me," Grim piped up tapping the arm with his bony finger.

The person next to him snorted and writhed under the covers. "My next guest is Fabio…" he mumbled while turning.

At that, Grim knew exactly what was going on. So he screamed in horror and scrambled out of the bed.

"The bats are coming!" Conan O'Brien screeched as he sat up in the bed, still half-asleep, and noticed Grim trying to escape the room. "Oh yeah?" he threatened, snatching up a rifle from under the pillow and cocking it.

"No! It's just a dream! Go back to sleep!" Grim pleaded as he fumbled with the doorknob but couldn't grip it due to lack of fingerprints. Conan ignored him and aimed the rifle at him. "Wait…why am I trying to use a door?" Grim wondered as he quickly tore a hole in the air with his scythe and jumped into it just before five bullets pierced the door.

Grim fell through the blue and orange striped portal for only a few seconds before landing in an office building. He stood, dusted off his black robes and looked around to notice the cubicles surrounding him.

"Oh great. I'm in hell," he grumbled.

"Hey, good job guys," came an all-too familiar voice from one of the cubicles. Grim shrieked and dove behind a wall as soon as Conan O'Brien walked halfway into the hall and shouted inside, "Just keep those Walker Texas Ranger clips coming. Who knew I could host a show just by pulling a lever?" He then threw his head back and laughed maniacally as he strolled past Grim to another cubicle.

"Man, now I can understand why she wants this guy dead," Grim whispered to himself as he followed him.

However, he was halfway to his destination when he had a bladder attack and rushed off to the men's room.

…Grim was a special skeleton and was devoid of all internal organs except a bladder.

See? I am the master of plot holes.

"Whatcha got?" Conan asked, dropping into a chair at the head of a conference table. His writers cleared their throats and timidly shuffled their feet, avoiding his eyes. "Well?" he prodded.

"Er…all we can think of is…" one of them began but trailed off.

"What? Come on, I'm getting desperate. I'll take anything."

"Well, we were thinking of doing a grim reaper sketch."

"A grim reaper sketch?" Conan echoed skeptically.

"Yeah, you know. Like, we could have him walk on and pretend to try to eat your soul but you could, like, I dunno, kick him in the balls or something at the end."

Conan slowly blinked as he stared at him.

"And this is ALL you could come up with in three days?" he asked.

"Er…yes?"

"Ah, fine. It's not like we haven't done worse," Conan shrugged as a flashback overtook the scene.

"I just wish Jeffrey Dahmer was alive to see this," a 31 year-old Conan joked before the entire audience erupted into jeers and began pelting him with random objects. "DAHH! QUIT THAT!" he screamed over the outbursts.

A set of car keys flew out of the audience and struck Conan in the face.

"OKAY, WHO THREW THAT?!" he demanded, beginning to foam hysterically at the mouth. "FUCK YOU TOO!" he yelled as he pointed to the audience and stormed off the set, leaving Andy Richter all by his lonesome.

The audience fell silent as the camera focused in on him.

"Er…" he began, looking around nervously. "Heh…"

He then jumped up from the couch and did a ho down whilst kicking his legs to the side like a hick. This only irritated the audience and he was soon thereafter pelted with things too.

The flashback ended abruptly and Conan forced a grin. "Okay, let's do that. Then we can just BS the rest of it like always."

By the time Grim returned from the bathroom, Conan was nowhere to be found.

"Rats," he cursed, but then noticed a box of Krispy Kreme donuts open on the conference table and happily helped himself to it.

§§§ SEXY BREAK §§§

A few hours later, Grim had stumbled upon the studio where Late Night with Conan O'Brien was being filmed and decided to search for Conan there. Since his name was in the title of the show, Grim figured he'd be there.

Grim is smart.

He spotted a guy at the drinking fountain and decided to approach him and ask for Conan's whereabouts.

"Excuse me," Grim said, tapping him on the shoulder. "Do you know where I can—"

"Hey man, what are you doing?" the guy suddenly asked grabbing Grim's shoulder. "You're on in like thirty seconds!" Before Grim could object, the guy was practically shoving him through the hall to a set of double doors. "Get in there, man!" he said, opening the doors and pushing him inside.

"But I need to find—" Grim began but collided with a person hidden under a black cloak very much like his. The collision was so hard, in fact, that Grim's scythe had impaled the other person through the chest. "Oh, my bad. Sorry about dat. Here, let me get dat for you," Grim assured, ripping the scythe from the person's chest.

As Grim wiped the blood off the metal with his sleeve, he looked up to see his prey sitting at a desk in the middle of the stage, casually talking to one of the cameras.

"Hey, it's him," Grim noticed. "I think I'll go take his soul now so I can get home."

Grim stepped over the body of the other actor and made his way across the set.

"So then I told him it was under the table!" Conan concluded, causing little response from his audience. "Oh my God," he dramatically exclaimed. "Just how terrible WAS that joke?"

As soon as he said that, Grim appeared next to him.

THIS made the audience laugh.

"Wow, they actually find this funny. They must really hate this guy," Grim thought before saying, "I am the Grim Reaper, and I am here to reap your immortal soul."

"The Grim Reaper?" Conan echoed. "You're here to reap my immortal soul? But…I only told a bad joke!"

"You also lied and said it would be a good show," Grim replied, causing the audience to laugh more. "You have let down many fans and now you must pay."

"Okay, look, I know I've done a lot of bad things in my life but I really don't think it's my time to die yet," Conan compromised. "Besides, I think Max has done a lot worse than me."

When the camera cut to Max, he was found biting the head off a fake kitten. "Nonsense," he assured through the mouthful of fur.

"But I've come for YOU," Grim said, pointing to him, revealing his bone finger. The audience 'ooo'ed and 'ahh'ed over the highly improved special effects and make-up the show had garnered over the weekend.

"No!" Conan objected stubbornly.

This pissed Grim off quite a bit. "YES!" he rebuked.

"All right, Mr. Reaper, I've had it with you," Conan said, standing up and ripping off his jacket, causing all the women in the audience to squeal. "If you want my soul, you're gonna have to fight me for it!"

Grim only stood in one spot as Conan did a bunch of random kung-fu moves around him, leaping on top of his desk whilst screeching mock Japanese and making a complete ass of himself.

Grim looked at his watch.

"Wooooooaaaaaaaaaaaa!" Conan concluded, holding his arms high over his head and kicking Grim in the groin area.

Only annoyed and confused, Grim stood his ground and stared at him. Conan nervously chuckled and glanced at the director who shrugged helplessly in response.

"Uh…hey, you're supposed to collapse in pain, Mr. Reaper," Conan improvised.

Grim rolled his eyes and slashed Conan's body in half with his scythe in one swift motion, causing the audience to erupt in hysterical laughter.

"I think you've learned your lesson," Grim huffed before giving a short satisfied nod and gliding out of the studio.

After three minutes had passed and neither of Conan's halves had moved an inch with the exception of a series of twitching once they hit the ground, the audience's laughter died down and slowly evolved into horrified screams which eventually led to an all-out panic, resulting in several people rushing out of the studio and buying bottled water and Downy detergent.

* * *

The pathetic thing about this chapter is that flashback actually happened. Review please. 


	4. That Colin Kid

Let's see if I remember how to do this…I haven't updated in a while. A while probably bordering a year or so. Well maybe not that long. You get it though, right? RIGHT!

I actually don't know the Colin kid although he was in my history class. I don't have a problem with him, but I did it on the behest of Frotu because, well, she hates him and probably wants him dead. So don't get mad at me. I'm not one to hold a grudge against som—

Ewan: For God's sake just get to the chapter!

BUGGER THE BLOODY HELL OFF! …Right then.

* * *

**Chapter Four: **_Grim Reaps the Immortal Soul of That Colin Kid_

Letting out a loud grunt, Grim pushed the double doors to Rockefeller Plaza open to the nippy cold and almost tripped over a small boy with a drum.

"What the hey, kid!" he let out, losing his cool. Who could blame him? He'd been through a lot.

"I'm a drummer!" Colin grinned through his braces.

"Dat's nice. Please move."

"Wanna hear me play 'Little Drummer Boy' on my drum?"

"Hell no! Get out of the way!"

Colin only shoved his finger up his nose and dug around for a bit until he pulled out a gooey wad of boogers, examined it for a bit and finally licked them off his finger.

Despite the fact Grim had no stomach, he felt he was going to vomit.

That wasn't all, though. Since Colin hadn't yet swallowed the boogers, he took the liberty of chewing them up and blowing a huge bubble as he would to gum.

"Okay, I'm the Grim reaper and even _I_ think that's disgusting!" he sputtered, shielding his eyes.

"I can talk out my butt too!" he insisted, beginning to turn around and bend over.

However, before he could turn around completely, Grim took his sickle and sliced Colin in half.

Vertically.

"Ooo, what's going on?" his left half asked before all the internal organs spilled out of the open side and splattered onto the concrete. The pocket of skin then blew away in a sudden gust of wind. It sailed through the air and was soon thereafter chopped up in the propeller of a passing blimp. The shreds of his body spiraled towards the ground like confetti until a flock of Long Island seagulls swooped down and nabbed the pieces.

Colin's right side, however, remained intact but fell over due to lack of support. Immediately, a pack of wolves attacked the body and devoured it in a matter of seconds before running off in search for more food.

When it seemed as though Colin couldn't possibly be any more mutilated and destroyed, the huge mob of audience members from 'Late Night' stampeded out of the building and trampled over the twitching pieces of Colin's body until there was nothing left but a few traces of skin and two brackets from his braces.

Grim glanced at his watch again before leaving the scene of the accident.

* * *

I heart people who review. 


	5. McEnroe

For the record, I wrote this a very long time ago, back before Tina Fey was pregnant…perhaps I cursed her. Sorry. And back when John McEnroe had a talk show. I loved hating that show. And back when a bunch of the mentioned movies were in theaters. And a few weeks before the election. So just for future references.

Also I apologize for those of you who were fans of the McEnroe show and might be offended. I watched it and couldn't help but make fun of it. Yes, I watched it. Regularly. Oh stop booing. There's nothing wrong with it. There are dozens of us. Dozens!

On with it then.

* * *

**Chapter Five:** _Grim Reaps the Immortal Soul of John McEnroe_

Grim torpidly walked up the sidewalk towards Mandy's house but instantly stopped upon seeing the mailbox's flag down. As Mandy's slave, it was almost innate to retrieve the mail so he opened the box and sifted through the letters on his way up to the porch.

"Bill, bill, bill, 'You may have kinda sorta maybe almost won $25,000 if you want', bill, Marquette University, bill, bill, 'You're Invited to Be a Guest on the John McEnroe Show', bi—wait a minute." Grim tossed the other envelopes aside and reread the return address. He then popped open the envelope, unfolded the letter and read the invitation. "Dear Mr. Reaper, You have been selected by tennis burnout John McEnroe to have a guest appearance on his smashing late night talk show tomorrow night. If you can, please show up promptly at 3:00 for the taping and free donuts and coffee afterwards (if you survive the crappy interview). Whoops, I didn't just say that! I meant—"

The writing suddenly and mysteriously ended abruptly. After a moment of confusion, Grim noticed there was more to be read.

"hay john mcenroe here n u butter come 2 my shwo or esle ill come n kill u just lick how i killed my riter here goodby ashole!1"

Grim, instead of sighing, clapped his hands happily. "Oh boy! I've always wanted to be on a talk show! And there will be free donuts and coffee! It's about time I had a break."

So Grim once again ripped a tear in the background and leapt in to transport himself back to New York.

---------------------

"You have five kids, don't you?" McEnroe demanded of Tina Fey who was squishing herself on the furthest end of the couch to be as far away as possible from the evil talk show host.

"No, I don't," she told him waving away the stench of his bad breath that had managed to waft its way over to her.

"Why? Are your ovaries broken?" McEnroe prodded.

"…No, I just—"

"Does your husband hate you?"

"I don't—"

"What was your reaction to Bush choking on a pretzel?"

"That's—"

"I laughed. I shit my pants I laughed so hard."

"I—"

"Would you rather have sex with Chewbacca or Jar-Jar Binks?"

Tina just let her arm drop on her leg and allowed him to ramble on with questions.

"Have you ever gotten so drunk that you made out with your mother and then vomited in her mouth? You were in the Lord of the Rings movie. What was it like being the elf and would you do the dwarf? Have you been sexually molested in a grocery store? If so, was it Michael Jackson? Do you think Dick Cheney will die of a heart attack next week?"

By this time, Tina sprinted across the stage and dove head-first out the open window. This was becoming so redundant that Daniel Day-Lewis had posted a sign that said "Exit Here" with an arrow pointing to the window before jumping out himself.

McEnroe noticed she had left and turned to camera one, his cold, lifeless eyes off to the side as he read his cue card.

"Well, Tina Turner had to leave so now we'll check up on some current events," he said before taking out the same newspaper he'd gotten out five minutes before and read the front cover. "And…yup, he's still dead," he confirmed as he turned the paper to show the headline that read: 'Conan O'Brien Dies! NBC Screwed!'

A bedraggled audience member timidly raised her hand.

"What!" McEnroe acknowledged.

"Er…you shouldn't joke about death. It's not very nice and it's not funny either," she whimpered.

"Shut up!" he yelled, pointing to her. "This is my show and I can joke about whatever the hell I want! No soup for you!"

"Oh no, please!" the woman begged as a guard in an armored uniform yanked away her Top Noodles: the only rations the audience members received. "I need to eat today! I haven't—"

"I said shut up!" McEnroe demanded, snatching up one of his tennis balls and chucking it hard at the woman's head.

Naturally he missed and knocked out one of the stage managers.

"Good catch, Clyde!" he joked dryly and held a grin during the silence.

The 'laugh' sign flickered on and the audience groaned in response, activating the electrical shockers in the microchips planted in their heads which shocked them into laughing.

"Well anyways, my next guest is best known for his role in 'The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy' and now he is currently starring in the films 'Alphie', 'Finding Neverland', 'Saw' and 'Lord of the Rings 5'. Please welcome the Grim Reaper."

Grim glided onto the stage, his trusty scythe in his hands as he giddily made his way over to the couch where McEnroe held out his hand to shake but quickly whipped it away and used it to point and laugh at Grim's gullibility.

Grim sank forlornly into the couch. Maybe this wasn't so great.

"So, Reaps…can I call you Reaps?" McEnroe began.

"Actually, my name's Grim," he corrected.

"I don't care. I'm calling you Reaps. So Reaps, let me ask you something. It's a real important question and I just HAVE to ask…are you a baseball fan?"

The question took Grim aback a bit as he searched for a decent answer. "Well, not really. I don't follow the games much, but I do like the Milwaukee Brewers—"

"Following the sudden death of Conan O'Brien, do you think I have a good shot at hosting The Tonight Show?" McEnroe suddenly asked.

Grim paused. "What…did you do that for? You just asked me if I was a baseball fan not two seconds ago and you didn't let me answer completely."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, let me rephrase that. What I meant was, if you were trapped on a deserted island with one other person, who would it be and would you do them?"

"What!" Grim sputtered completely flabbergasted. "What kind of question is that!"

"Do you have a pet?"

"No!"

"Do you want a pet?"

"No…"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

"Oh. Well, because we have some pets for you backstage—"

"I don't want a pet!"

"What's your favorite movie?"

"Gah! Quit hopping subjects! You are a TERRIBLE interviewer! I mean, what is this, the 'Jump From Random Question to Random Question Show'!"

"I think that's what 'MCENROE' stands for, yeah," he said.

Grim's jaw dropped open.

McEnroe gave camera one a creepy grin.

Grim cocked his head to the side, completely at a loss for words.

"Who are you voting for?" McEnroe asked.

"And I thought that O'Brien guy was bad…" Grim muttered, rubbing his skull with his fingers and shaking his head sadly.

"You better be voting for Kerry. If you're not voting for Kerry, I'll throw a tennis ball at you."

"Okay, I'm voting for Kerry," Grim ventured.

"LIAR!" McEnroe accused quite loudly as he grabbed a tennis ball and chucked it hard at Grim.

Naturally, he missed and knocked out another stage manager.

"Good catch, Pete!" McEnroe slobbered hysterically as he laughed at his own joke.

That was the last straw.

"Is dat window open?" Grim asked, pointing to the 'exit'.

"Yeah, it's always open. That's how our guests leave."

"Okay, good."

Grim stood up from the couch and walked over to the window.

On the way, he used his scythe to nab McEnroe by the scruff of his shirt and drag him along.

"Hey, what gives? Tell me about your kids!" McEnroe pleaded uselessly as Grim snatched him up and pitched him out the window. "AAAAHHHHHHHHhhhh…"

A soft crunch was heard seconds later.

"That felt good," Grim smiled, brushing his hands together.

"Does this mean we're free?" one of the camera men asked.

"What? What do you mean by that?"

"He's held us captive here since the show began."

"How long has that been?"

"Four months."

"Oh jeez!" Grim exclaimed in horror. "Yes, go! Run free! Go back to your lives!"

"Does that go for us too?" an audience member asked.

"Yes! All of you, go! You're free now!"

Everyone, too exhausted to cheer, filed out of the studio and into the daylight.

"Can I go too?" came a small voice from a dark corner of the set. Grim squinted to see McEnroe's sidekick emerging from the corner to which he was always banished to. "I want to see my family again."

Grim thought a bit. "Mm…nah. You better stay here. Watch over da place."

He used his scythe to rip another portal in the air and disappeared through it.

"Ohhhhh…" the sidekick whimpered as he hugged his knees.

* * *

Almost done. Just take a breath, relax and think to yourself, "It's people! The Soylent Green is PEOPLE!"


	6. All Done

Last chapter woooooooo! You all owe me your lives.

Onward and whatnot.

* * *

Chapter Six: Grim Finally Comes Home

"Grim's back! Grim's back! Grim's back!" Billy shouted as he abandoned his sandbox and bounced up to Grim upon seeing him coming towards the house.

"Wow, Billy," Grim said beaming. "I never thought you'd be so happy to see me."

"No I mean, look at Grim's back! It's got tomato soup all over it!" Billy corrected pointing to the huge red stain on Grim's robe. He licked up the puddle with his tongue and smacked his lips together. "SALTY!" he complimented.

"Oh, dat's not tomato soup, Billy," Grim laughed. "Dat's the blood from Conan O'Brien and maybe a little from dat Colin kid."

Billy's eyes doubled right before he vomited into the gutter.

"Well done, Grim," Mandy congratulated as she emerged from the house. "You did something right for once."

Grim sighed as he knew she was assuming he'd reaped Frotu. "Mandy," he began to confess, "I…didn't get that Frotu girl. I tried but she was just too tricky for me."

"What?" Mandy asked, raising an eyebrow. "Who's Frotu? Oh, yeah, her. No, no, I meant you sacked McEnroe without me telling you. Now THAT'S class."

"McEnroe?" Grim echoed confusedly.

"Yeah. Old ugly tennis player guy? Has his own talk show on CNBC? WORST show in the history of shows, I must say. And THAT'S saying something," she pointed out to the readers. "That guy has been annoying me for months and I was just too psyched to hear you pitched him out the window."

Grim smiled smugly. "Well, it was just something I had to do."

"Yeah. You know, I WOULD be proud of you had it not been for you killing the only GOOD talk show host left and causing an all-out riot in New York. And how about that bear you whacked? Did you SEE how much Downy sales have skyrocketed?" she asked, whipping out a line graph indicating the red arrow almost perpendicular to the bottom side of the paper. "Thanks to you, the entire country is in a dilemma over who's going to keep the NBC ratings up and who's going to replace that cute cuddly bear on the Downy commercials and who's going to be our next president."

"Dat last part wasn't my fault," Grim cut in defensively.

"Well, no but you sure did contribute to it," Mandy explained. She then let out a sigh through her nostrils and shook her head. "I'm very disappointed in you, Grim. Go clean the bathroom."

She handed his tooth brush to him as he drug himself inside the house.

"Well, I hope we've all learned something from this experience," Grim told Billy who was sitting cross-legged in the toilet bowl.

"Ooo! Ooo! Me! Me!" Billy yelled, jutting his hand in the air like an excited schoolboy.

"Yes."

"The concept of life is naught but reality coinciding with rational fiction," Billy stated philosophically before grinning wide, revealing several pieces of cat litter between his teeth.

Grim blinked.

"Dat made no sense," he grumbled as he pulled the flusher and watched Billy swirl down the toilet.

"Theeeeeeee ennnnnnnd…" were Billy's last words before he disappeared through the hole, letting up only a telltale bubble.

* * *

That's all you get. Neener neener.


End file.
